My Land, My Rules

"Well, now I'm just going to feel bad about making you cry under false pretenses," Gladio admitted, snorting faintly, and definitely not needing another word to convince him to get in close and offer that shoulder, whether it involved tears or not. "No potato, actually, just some nice sparkling lemonade. What's wrong with potatoes, though? Was the stew giving you a hard time?"

He meant as far as making it went, but he supposed, around here, it could have been a real jerk of a soup, too.